Swamped

"Custard," is all she says. You're more than a little confused.

But it seems like you're the only one here who is.

"She's done a lot for us," says the red-haired woman. "So I can understand wanting to help. But how does breaking into the council hall help with that?"

"I dunno," Arlene chimes in. "I mean, I get that people respect her, but I don't see another way to explain those barrels."

"Could someone fill me in on what we're talking about?" you sigh exasperatedly.

"Captain Abbie Custard, famed sailor," Arlene replies. "And apparently famed smuggler as well. She was locked up three months ago after they found illegal goods in her ship, and a lot of people don't think it's fair."

"And I know she wouldn't sully her hands like that," the red-haired woman interjects. "She must have been tricked somehow. But the poor old girl blames herself for letting it happen, so she didn't dispute anything."

That sounds familiar. You glance at the thief.

"So, what? You were looking for evidence? Keys to the jail? Dropping off pamphlets at the council table?"

No further answer. You wonder if it's even worth pressing - you've got other things to deal with, after all.